Evidence
by whatabeautifulmess
Summary: The next time Julian saw him, Logan was going to be so, so dead. JOGAN, based on CP Coulter's Dalton. Rated T for language and those boys getting their mack on. COMPLETE.


_My first Jogan...I'm slightly nervous about it, actually, in case it's awful._

_I was going to wait a while to publish this, but I have a horrible, creepy feeling that Jules might be the one who dies. I want nothing more than to be wrong, but I can't help thinking that; and I wanted to get this out there without that hanging over it. If that makes any sense._

_Obviously, I don't own Glee; and Jules and Logan belong to Mama CP._

_Shamelessly advertising my tumblr, weareahurriklaine . tumblr . com (the link's on my profile, for ease of use :D). If you like Panic! at the Disco, you'll see what I did there ;) _

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><p>"Nice to see you again," Julian said, shaking the man's hand - he was a director or a producer or something, Julian couldn't remember - and flashing a flirty smile at the pretty brunette in the red dress who walked past, linking her arm through the directorproducer's and pulling him away.

A hand gripped his wrist, painfully tight, and warm breath tickled his ear.

"What the hell was that?" Logan hissed.

"Jealous, are we?" Julian whispered back, amused, as he wrenched his arm from Logan's grasp.

"Of course I'm fucking jealous," Logan replied, inching a hand round to the small of Julian's back. "You're my boyfriend, and I have to sit here and watch you flirt with all the pretty _girls_!"

"And I had to sit around for years watching _you_ flirt with pretty _boys_," Julian retorted. "I think you can manage one evening."

"That was different," Logan whispered. "Now you're _mine_." He tugged down the collar of Julian's shirt, tracing his thumb across the plum purple bruise that rested there. "Remember?"

Julian shivered as Logan's thumb ghosted across his skin, but he forced himself to pull away.

"No, Logan," he hissed. "You know why we have to keep this - us - quiet, why I have to pretend to flirt with these girls!"

"Oh, yes, the amazing Julian Larson and his precious film career," Logan muttered sarcastically.

"_Something Damaged_ is very popular in conservative states, like Ohio. If it gets out that I'm bi _and_ taken, then interest in me will fall and my career will basically be over. And then who'll look after you if Papa Wright cuts you off?"

Logan scoffed. "He wouldn't do that," he said confidently, with a crooked smile.

"If we were to go public then he might, especially if it causes a scandal, which it will," Julain countered. "You know how badly that could affect his campaign."

"Shit." Logan paled and gripped the back of Julian's jacket in his hand.

"Exactly," Julian said softly. He laid a calming hand on Logan's knee, but withdrew it almost immediately as footsteps echoed around them and a large groups passed by the corner where they were sat. Once they were gone he replaced his hand and said, "I love you and I want nothing more than to tell the _world_, but we can't, not yet."

As he finished speaking, he gasped quietly, realising what he'd just said. He bit his lips, looking uncharacteristically nervous, and looked at Logan to gauge his reaction, expecting shock and reluctance; but Logan was just staring at the opposite wall, wearing a cocky smirk.

"Jules," he said softly, "you've never said you loved me before."

"Oh? Well, I do," Julian said, trying to sound casual.

"Good to know," Logan replied, just as casually.

Julian frowned. This wasn't going quite the way he'd pictured it.

"Don't you have something you want to tell _me_?" he asked.

"Hmmm," Logan said, crossing one leg over the other and nodding.

"Well?"

"You'll find out later. Now go flirt with some more preposterous-looking women with way too much make-up on."

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><p>Julian was speaking with someone else, some bit-part film 'star', when his phone buzzed in his pocket. he excused himself, ignoring the disappointed expression on the girl's face, and moved into a quiet corner before answering it.<p>

"Hello?"

"Jules," said a soft voice, "how are you?"

"What do you want, Logan?" Julian said, a little impatiently. He wasn't in the mood for Logan's games.

"There's no need to snap," Logan said, and Julian heard him chuckle. "And here I was, trying to do you a favour."

"Oh really?" Julian said, interested in spite of himself.

"Hmm, I thought I might as well."

Julian clenched his free hand into a fist. Logan couldn't be utterly_ infuriating_ sometimes. "You want to maybe tell me about it?" he asked, barely bothering to conceal the bite of impatience in his voice.

"Patience is a virtue, Jules," Logan said. "Tell you what, you come down to that ante-room at the end of the corridor and you'll find out."

"You'd better not be messing with me, Wright..."

"Julian, why would I do that? Now, be a good boy and trot along the corridor and find me."

Julian was about to retort, but then he realised that Logan had already hung up. Scowling and muttering curses under his breath, he pushed past a large group of fawning females into the hall and strode down it quickly, pushing open a door to see Logan waiting there, leaning lazily against the windowsill.

"I knew you'd come" was all he said.

Julian crossed the room and looked at him, arms folded. "What d'you want, Logan? I was having so much fun flirting with all those girls," Julian said, with only a hint of sarcasm.

"Now, y'see, that would have been so convincing, Jules," Logan said with a small shake of his head.

"I should hope so," Julian replied drily. "Izzy wouldn't be happy if it wasn't."

"Your agent's potential displeasure and your acting ability, impressive though it is, aside," Logan said, "I know you're lying. That's why I called you here."

"To do me a fvaour," Julian said. "Well, come on: what's your favour?"

"This," Logan whispered, leaning forwards. He stopped less than an inch from Julian's mouth, and smiled at his broken gasp.

"Logan...please..."

Logan laughed quietly at the breathiness of Julian's voice. He closed the space between them and kissed him fiercely. Their mouths moved in comfortable tandem for a few moments, both trailing fingers under fabric and over skin; until Logan pulled away, ignoring Julian's tiny whine of protest.

"Of course," he said, "I'm getting something out of all this as well."

"Like what?"

"Like this," Logan murmured, attatching his lips to Julian's jaw and kissing along it. Julian's eyelids fluttered closed as Logan sucked soflty at the skin just below his ear; and Julian exhaled a little shakily as Logan pressed quick kisses to his lips before returning to his neck and jaw.

Julian growled under his breath and pulled Logan's mouth back to his. "God, I love you," he said.

"I love you too," Logan gasped back, kissing Julian deeply.

Julian pulled back, blinking at Logan. "You..." he said, trailing off; then he pressed his lips back to Logan's, curling his arms around his neck and pulling him close.

They remained locked together until they heard the creak of floorboards and faint voices outside the door. They pulled apart and stared at each other, eyes wide. If someone were to walk in now, well, their rumpled clothes and swollen lips would speak for themselves.

They stood, frozen, barely daring to breathe in case they were heard. They were both silent, listening hard, as the voices moved away, growing quieter before disappearing.

Logan exhaled softly. "That was close," he said as Julian gripped his wrist. "Too close."

"We need to go," Julian said, smoothing his shirt and jacket. "I'll go first, you follow in about ten minutes. Am I presentable?" He tilted his head, looking questioningly at Logan.

"What? Oh, yeah," Logan said, sounding distracted and wearing an odd smile that Julian didn't quite understand.

"OK, I'm going to go. Make sure you wait," Julian said, pushing open the door slowly and peering round it. The corridor beyond was deserted, and Julian slipped out into it, walking quicly back to the main room.

Just outside the doors, he was stopped by a group of photographers, one journalist in their midst.

"Mr Larson, Mr Larson!" Julian turned towards them wearily, preparing to answer some more tedious questions about his new film.

"Yes?"

"What was the reaction of the audi- What's that?" asked the small girl clutching a notebook at the front of the group, as Julian turned to face her.

"What's what?" he asked, looking around.

"On your jaw, Mr Larson," the tiny journalist said hesitantly.

Julian reached his hand up to the side of his face, feeling along his jaw. Just below his ear, the skin was tender to the touch.

"Shit," he muttered.

The journalist said, "Here", holding out a compact mirror. Julian took it, snapping it open and holding it up in front of him as the cameras clicked away. Sure enough, just below his ear a deep purple bruise had blossomed. He touched it softly, casting his mind back.

Logan was so, so dead.


End file.
